


Something Once Bitter Turns Out Sweet

by hollinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And Stiles is a big ball of dorkface, Derek is awkward as usual, Dreams and Nightmares, First Date, M/M, Mating, New Werewolf stuff, Stiles Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:43:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollinski/pseuds/hollinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightmares suck for Stiles, but they may lead to something other than a frightening and inevitable death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Once Bitter Turns Out Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm terrible at regular updating. So I apologize, and this may suck.

It's gotten to the point where when Stiles sees that the sun is setting, he gets knots in his stomach and a horrible anxiety sinks into his brain.  
The nightmares haven't gone away since he was thirteen. He's nineteen now. They all start the same way; he opens his eyes and sees forest surrounding him, tall trees looming over him in the darkness. His body aches like he's fallen onto the cold, hard ground. When he tries to move, leaves and bark crunch under his weight. He manages to get to his feet and sees that it's night time.  
The wind whipping around him feels so real that Stiles sometimes questions if the dream is really a dream.  
He turns around and sees someone. This is where it gets really bad.  
He's never seen the man before in his entire life. It's mentally impossible to conjure the face of someone you've never seen before, but Stiles does it. They say you can use even the face of a stranger, someone you've only caught a glimpse of, but Stiles would remember seeing him.  
The man was staring at him. He looked terrified, but his eyes were locked directly with Stiles'. He was yelling something, but there was no noise.   
A dark, massive shape moved behind the guy. Stiles starts yelling back, telling him to turn around, run, do something. He doesn't hear him and continues talking, completely oblivious, but the fear hasn't left his expression.  
Stiles doesn't look away as the thing grabs the guy and practically rips him to pieces.  
Every time he has this dream, he wakes up sweating and terrified out of his mind. The first couple of times he had it, he woke up screaming, and his dad rushed into the room with a gun. The more it occurred, the more Stiles trained himself not to scream.  
*  
It was Tuesday night and the knots in Stiles' stomach returned when Scott called him.  
"Are you busy? I need your help."  
He sounded tired, his voice strained.  
"Um, no, what's up?" Stiles heard rustling in the background.  
"I was in the woods and something...I think something bit me."  
That didn't sound good, but Scott could've meant a spider or bug.  
"How big was it?"  
"Big. Like, a mountain lion or something."  
Shit.  
Stiles was happy enough to hop on his bike and ride over to Scott's house. If it suspended him going to sleep, he was all for it. Getting through Scott's window wasn't an easy task, but he's done it enough times.  
"Hey, are you - holy shit."   
Scott was sitting on his bed, shirtless, and a massive bite mark was embedded into his side. It was obviously too big for a spider bite.  
"Yeah." Scott had a roll of gauze next to him. "I already cleaned it, for the most part. Mind helping me?"  
Stiles hurried over to help wind the gauze around his waist, wincing each time the white material passed over the injury.  
"What happened?"  
"I was walking home from Allison's place and I took a shortcut, and I saw something running..." Scott hissed with pain as the gauze wrapped over the bite. "It came up from behind me and threw me onto the ground and just bit me. It ran off before I could really see it."   
Stiles secured the bandaging and shook his head.  
"You gonna be alright?"  
Scott nodded.  
"Yeah, thanks. You can hang here for a while if you want."  
Thank God. The thought of having to go home brought anxious energy back into Stiles' head.   
He collapsed on his best friend's bed.  
They spent the next three hours talking and playing video games. It felt good to hang out with Scott; with finals and everything they hadn’t gotten to hanging out nearly as much as they used to. Stiles was very easy around him, and it felt to him like he could tell Scott anything.  
So he decided to tell Scott about his nightmare.  
“Dude, that’s some scary shit.” Scott’s eyes are wide by the time he’s done describing it.  
“Yeah. I haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in...oh God, I can’t even remember.” Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face.  
“You could try sleeping pills.”  
“I’ve tried them all. My dad says if they keep going then I should see a psychiatrist.” Rolling over on his side, he checked the time. 10:59. “I should probably get going, it’s getting dark.”   
Scott nodded. “Alright, be safe, okay?”  
“I will.” Stiles tries to give him a comforting smile, but it probably doesn’t work. He sneaks back out the way he came and waves from his bike as he heads down the street.  
He’d always been a night owl before the nightmares made him so restless at night time. The way everything was still and silent, except for the rushing of cars on the highway and the rustling of leaves on trees, made the entire neighborhood more peaceful than frightening. It’s almost enough to make Stiles forget about the jittery feelings bouncing around in his gut. Almost.  
He leaves his bike on the porch, rushes up the stairs and collapses into his bed. Surprisingly enough, he’s asleep before he can blink.  
Stiles hears something that night. In the dreams, he’d always try to catch a hint of what he was saying. He could feel the words forming, but no sound came out of his mouth that he could hear, like a gunshot had deafened the entire forest. But tonight, only one word broke through the rushing of blood in his head. When he heard it, the silence was forced back into place with enough force to knock him down, but he remembered the word when he woke up. It was a name, and not one he’d heard before.  
Derek.  
Stiles ignored the hair standing up on the back of his neck when he thought of the word in his mind as he sat up. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hand, he checked the alarm clock to see it was 6:30. The alarm would go off in fifteen minutes anyway, so Stiles turned it off and went to take a very cold shower.  
*  
Meanwhile, a long ways away, Derek had been getting some weird vibes, and none from his pack.  
He doesn’t stop to think about it as much, because it is spring, and his pack has officially developed spring fever.  
Derek is constantly disgusted by it, so he ignores any vibes from the pack that suggest it. But it keeps constantly nagging him, a small jolt in the very back of his brain that just won’t leave him alone. It’s not hormones; it’s more fear, a small but intense dose of terror that hits him so unexpectedly hard that sometimes he just needs to sit down.  
Worse of all, he cannot figure out where they’re coming from.  
All he knows is that he has to find the kid he bit the other night in the woods before something bad happens.  
*  
“Holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit, Stiles, get over here now or I’m going to explode, oh my fucking God, call me back when you get this, like, now.”  
The message ends and Stiles has absolutely no idea what’s going on. All he knows is that he has a science final to study for and a mound of flashcards that could cover Africa to review, and he doesn’t have time to rush over to Scott’s house, again.  
But in the end, that’s not enough to stop him from biking furiously down the road and almost running into a tree.  
It’s been a couple of days since Scott’s bite and they’re both still clueless about what exactly bit him. Stiles can only hope he’s found out by now as he clambers through the open window.  
And he definitely does not expect to walk in on his best friend buried in a sea of books on his bed, face twisted in horror.  
“Scott?” He walks over, shoves a couple of books aside and sits by the bed. He bends his face trying to see what Scott has been staring at, but the book snaps shut. “You alright?”  
“Not exactly.” Stiles hears the sharp crack in his voice and knows this is actually serious.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Just...I...read this.”  
He grabs the book. It’s heavy and bound with thick leather, and a complex wolf illustration is printed on the front. The pages give away that the book is old, and the paper is sturdy in his hands as he turns to a bookmarked page with the picture of a man standing under a cover of trees. The man’s face is contorted to look like a wolf’s, and his hand crosses his rib cage to hold a deep bite mark, placed exactly where Scott’s is.  
“Fuck.” Big, brown eyes grow impossibly wide as Stiles reads on about lycanthropy.  
The details match. Impossibly match.  
“Scott...dude, I think - “  
“Yeah, so do I.” Stiles sees that his friend’s hands are covering his face. Scott briefly runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I was reading more on it, I stopped by the library earlier, and apparently whatever bit me last night is now my, um, Alpha. I guess?”  
“Holy shit.” Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes from the page, but he finally did to meet Scott’s worried gaze. He can’t remember when his friend had ever looked more confused, so he takes a deep breath and slowly nods. “Okay. Alright, so you’re a...werewolf. That’s okay.”  
“Seriously?” Scott looks a little more at ease, so Stiles continues.  
“Absolutely. We can get this under control. First...” He looks back down to the book.  
“First what?”  
“Well, I guess first we gotta find your alpha.”  
*  
Derek has never thought about needing a mate, because he doesn’t need a mate. Well, he probably does, he just hasn’t found them yet.  
So when he finds new information that tells him the swing of emotions and fear he’s been feeling on and off are coming from his mate, Derek just doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t feel particularly thrilled to have a mate, but it wouldn’t be so bad.  
How they’re gonna find each other is just another thing Derek doesn’t know.  
What worries him is that his mate could be anyone. Werewolf or not. Boy or girl. He doesn’t even know if they’re in the same area.  
He’s staring out the window in his room trying to think if the emotions coming from his mate could help him track them down when Jackson knocks on the door. Lately, Derek’s house has become a kind of hang-out spot for his pack, which he can’t object to. It’s easier to manage them this way.  
“Hey, you alright?” Jackson says from the doorway. “You figure out about those mood swings yet?”  
“They’re not mood swings.” Derek turns his attention to the beta. “Well, not exactly. They’re...someone else’s emotions.”  
“Wait, what?” Jackson looks confused immediately. “Who?”  
“I don’t know.” Derek sat back in a chair near his window, rubbing his eyes. “This only happens with an alpha’s mate, and I’m not sure - “  
“Wait, you have a mate?” He snorts, and Derek glares at him.  
“Apparently so.”  
“Well who is it?” Derek shrugs.  
“No idea, yet.”  
Jackson actually laughs, like this is funny. Well, it may be for him. He’s not the one having nightmares.   
“Tell me when you figure it out.” He leaves, still laughing.  
Sometimes Derek really hates his betas.  
*  
Scott wakes up lying on forest ground. He opens his eyes and sees the night sky covering his vision, and when he sits up his whole body hurts. Bark is sticking on his back, which is bare. He looks around, trying to figure out why he’s not in his bed, when he sees a huge, abandoned-looking house in front of him.  
The house looked like it was on the verge of falling over at any second. Half of it was gone, and where it should have been burnt edges remained. The boards were splintering and rotting, and it might have been nice in the past if it weren’t only partially standing.  
“Good, you’re awake.” A voice says from behind Scott and he almost screams. He scrambles to his feet and turns to see the source of the voice. The guy also has no shirt on, and Scott really doesn’t like where this is going.  
“Um, who are you? What am I doing here?” Scott tries not to sound frantic and he fails.  
“You came here in your sleep.” The guy says. “You still have no idea how to control your abilities.”  
“What abilities?”  
“You read the books. You know what you are.”  
Scott’s eyes widen.  
“Wait, so you - “  
“I’m Derek. I’m the one who turned you.”   
Derek lets Scott inside and continues to explain everything about werewolves and packs and dreams that can lead you to a forest in the middle of the night. He says he can help Scott control his instinct, even during a full moon, if he promises to do exactly what he says. And Scott really doesn’t have another choice.  
“If you don’t learn to control yourself, you could end up killing people you care about.”  
He agrees.  
*  
Scott hasn’t answered his phone in three days and the nightmares are getting worse. Stiles currently hates his life.  
So, when he sees Scott walking down the same path they use to get home from school, his first reaction is to demand an explanation and not rest until he gets one.  
“I’m telling you Stiles, I got the flu. It’s not a big deal.”  
“Scott, do you smell that?” Scott looks around and Stiles glares at him.  
“Well I do, and it smells like bullshit. So you need to tell me what’s really been going on right now or I will spam your Facebook with links to Japanese tentacle porn websites.”  
Scott sighs, an exaggerated noise that lets Stiles know he’s about to get some answers. He’s dragged behind a tree and listens closely to Scott’s frantic whispering, catching words like “alpha” and “healing” and “full moon,” along with lots of cuss words.  
“Dude, slow down. I can’t understand a word you just said.”  
Scott fills him in about waking up in the middle of nowhere.  
“And this guy, Derek, he’s my alpha and - “  
Stiles chokes on air for a second.  
“Wait, what’s his name?”  
“Huh? Oh, Derek. Why?”  
Suddenly, there’s a ringing in Stiles’ ears and he feels like his skull is splitting open. He can’t hear anything else, not Scott’s voice or the wind blowing around the neighborhood like he’d heard before. It’s a high-pitched sound that fills every corner of his mind and he wonders if he’s going to pass out.  
Minutes pass and when he finally hears normally and looks up from where he collapsed on his knees, Scott looks terrified.  
“Dude, what the hell? Are you okay?”  
Stiles nods, his heart beating so fast he thinks Scott can hear it. He spends the next couple of minutes convincing Scott that yes, he’s fine and no, he doesn’t need to go to the hospital and no, he does not need CPR, he swears. Instead, Stiles tells him about the name of the reappearing mystery figure in his dream.  
“Why would you be dreaming about Der - um, this guy?”   
“No idea.” Stiles’ mind couldn’t sort through his thoughts, the sudden pain being so fresh in his mind it made the gears in his brain slow down drastically. “But we need to find out. I can’t keep almost passing out each time I hear his name.”  
“Would it be better if you guys met?” Scott asked and received a ludicrous look from his friend. “Hey, we don’t know what’s going on and he does. Maybe he knows you too.” He shrugged.  
Stiles shook his head. “I don’t know man, I just gotta get home.” He took Scott’s shoulder and dragged himself to his feet. “Call me later and we’ll figure something out, okay?”  
“Okay.” They start walking home and Stiles turns around to yell at Scott one more time to fucking call him later and Scott says he will.  
And later on, around midnight, the nightmare was one of the worst Stiles has had in months. He wakes up, shaking and afraid, and has to wonder if maybe it’s because of what happened with Scott walking home.   
He kicks the sweat-covered sheets off his bed and hits the pillow again.   
*  
He thought he was prepared. Stiles honestly thought it was going to be no big deal, and holy fuck he’s never been more wrong in his life.  
It sounds like the corniest thing that’s ever happened, but when he saw Derek he felt like that was it, that was something he didn’t know he’d been waiting for but he had been waiting and it had finally, actually, really happened. He’s the exact person that Stiles had been dreaming about for as long as he can remember, but seeing him in person is like waving away a cloud of fog in front of a picture, and when the details are revealed everything becomes so much more clear.  
From the look on Derek’s face, he feels it too, whatever “it” is.  
“Um, I’m Stiles, hi, nice to meet you.” Stiles is stuttering and he knows he sounds so unbelievably dumb but he doesn’t care. He holds out his hand to shake it, and it takes Derek a minute to snap out of whatever state of mind he’s in and accept the handshake.  
Whatever Stiles expects to come from a simple handshake, he doesn’t expect his hand to feel like it’s been electrocuted. To his surprise, they both pull their hands back. Derek’s looking at him with an expression somewhere between amazement and confusion.  
“Wow, what was that?” Scott grabbed Stiles’ hand and checked it.  
“I - I don’t know.” Whatever Scott thought was on his hand, he doesn’t find it and Stiles lets it drop to his side. Derek is still looking at him, so he breaks the eye contact, feeling his face heat up.  
“Scott, I need to talk to you.” Derek says and his voice makes Stiles’ heart feel like someone kicked it.  
“Yeah sure, what’s up?”  
“I meant in private.” He looks stiff as he and Scott walk out into the hallway just outside of Scott’s room. Stiles is thankful for the silence that echoes in the now empty room, and takes the time to let his energy out. He thanks God no one saw him jumping up and down and silently screaming at his life. After that, he goes to sneak a look at what they may be talking about, or if there’s any hint of something, anything that proves Stiles isn’t the only one feeling this.  
Derek is looking down at his feet when Stiles peaks through the crack in the doorway, and Scott’s eyes are wide as he stares at Derek, clearly very confused. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or ask what the hell is going on, but they’re both walking back in before he can do either and he has to fling himself onto the bed, try to act normal, and fail.   
“So, um, he’s your alpha?” Stiles is trying to start normal conversation but holy fuck it’s hard with those eyes staring you down like they want to push you up against a wall and -   
Okay, he’s going to die.  
“Yeah,” Scott says hurriedly, “but there’s something - “  
He’s cut off when Derek coughs from behind him.  
“Scott, maybe I should tell him.” And with that, Derek has his hand around Stiles’ wrist and is leading him into the hallway. Stiles is trying not to revel in how firm Derek’s grasp is but it’s kind of impossible.  
“Scott told you about him being a werewolf, right?” Derek says intently. His hand’s still on Stiles’ wrist, and it takes him a minute to nod. “Okay, did he explain mating to you at all?” Stiles knows his eyes must be huge by now.  
“Um, no, he failed to mention that to me.” Derek sighs, looking somewhat agitated, but his expression softens and he leans in just a little bit so Stiles can hear what he’s saying.  
“Well, let’s say the alpha hasn’t exactly, uh, met his mate yet. The alpha’s subconscious sends out signals to the mate, whether they’re human or not.”  
“What kind of signals?” Stiles asks.  
“Feelings, weird emotions, dreams, signs.”  
Stiles freezes up when he mentions dreams, and Derek can feel him tense.  
“So you’ve had dreams too?” Derek asks, and he nods.  
None of this makes sense at all. Stiles is a human. He’s beyond clumsy, he likes video games and Mountain Dew, he takes Adderall, he’s a somewhat relatively normal teenage boy. How on this fucking earth could someone like him end up tied to someone like Derek, a dangerous, scary-looking but also ridiculously hot werewolf?  
“Wait, so are we - “  
“I think so.”  
And suddenly, Stiles is wishing he would have worn a nicer shirt.  
*  
“I cannot believe you’re doing this.”   
Derek looks like he’s going to glare at him, but he doesn’t. Stiles just laughs as the lady behind the counter hands them their tickets. The wind is blowing, scattering brown and yellow leaves onto the ground from the almost-bare trees above them. Stiles does have to admit, the stars look brighter than usual tonight, but maybe it’s just because he’s on a date.  
“Isn’t this what normal teenagers do?” Derek asks.  
“Well, yeah, but we aren’t exactly the most normal of teenagers.” He says as they walk into the theater. The smell of popcorn and new carpeting warms the air around him, and they walk up to hand the ticket counter their tickets.  
Stiles takes a second to glance over at Derek, and he isn’t sure whether to laugh or comfort him. He looks somewhat nervous, and it’s an unusual look on someone like him. And by someone like him, Stiles means someone that used to scare the living shit out of him. But Derek does look slightly nervous, and Stiles feels kind of flattered. He didn’t have to ask him out - well, if you could call the stuttering invitation to a movie “asking out” - but he did. And yes, Stiles’ heart almost collapsed and he took a minute to cheer silently when he was alone.  
“You didn’t have to say yes.” Derek is looking at his feet, and something in Stiles’ heart kicks again, like when he heard him speak for the first time.   
“I wanted to.” Stiles says, and he instantly wants to melt into the floor because oh my god, I’m being so fucking embarrassing.  
But he notices Derek looking at him, and there’s a small smile on his face that looks like he’s actually eager to be here, at a small and dirty movie theater with Stiles, and now he wants to melt into the floor for a completely different reason.  
Of course, when someone looks at you like that, the normal reaction is to keep talking your nerves away and ruin a perfectly good moment, right?  
Well, no, but that’s what he does anyway.  
“Yeah, this movie looks pretty good, huh?” Stiles scratches the back of his head. “I mean, I didn’t just say yes because of the movie, you know, I mean, oh God, I’m blabbering, aren’t I - “  
“Stiles.” He looks up and Derek’s eyes are burning right into his own, a look that’s torn between shut up and let’s just make out already.  
Stiles thinks both are good ideas, but he just swallows and they both look down at their feet as they enter the movie.  
It’s okay, actually. The only showing was for The Great Gatsby, and he can’t help but wonder why Leonardo DiCaprio doesn’t have an Oscar yet. The moment of awkwardness between Daisy and Jay reminded Stiles strongly of his own scenario, sitting in a dark movie theater with possibly the hottest guy he’s ever talked to.  
The thought suddenly reminds him of something. He’s on a date. Shouldn’t he be doing something right now, like yawning and stretching his arm over Derek’s seat? How does this shit even work? He knows he should make a move, he wants to make a move, but what’s an appropriate thing to do? Stiles just settles for putting his hand on the armrest, fingers dangling over the edge, willing Derek in his mind to take the hint.  
He does. Stiles feels a warm hand brush over his fingers, and Derek’s own fingers lace with his own. He looks up to see the alpha looking at him with a sort of questioning look, like he’s silently asking if it’s okay. Stiles tries not to smile too big, but he does smile, and they both relax.  
He blames it on his hyperactivity, because he barely even watches the rest of the movie.  
When it’s done, his plan to try and go even a little bit further are ruined as Scott loudly drives up in his Jeep. He smiles, honks the horn, and Stiles resists the strong urge to flip him off.  
“Oh God, sorry...” He feels his face turning red, and Derek looks down and laughs softly. Stiles is almost positive he’s going to have heart problems because that laugh shouldn’t be as hot as it is.  
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Derek is smiling, something Stiles thought he would die before ever seeing. “Um, I’ll see you later?”  
“Yeah, definitely.” Stiles starts to walk to the Jeep and, at the last minute, turns to give him a small wave. He waves back, and Stiles waits until he’s out of sight to start fangirling. Scott just laughs and the Jeep drives off, leaving a trail of exhaust behind.  
*  
Lydia rolled her eyes.   
“Sweetie, it’s very simple. If he makes you happy, then what’s the problem?”  
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” Stiles runs a hand through his hair. It’s gotten longer than normal, but he kinda likes it.  
“Are you kidding?” He looks up to see Lydia looking at him, completely bewildered.  
“What?”  
“Honey, I’m not a werewolf and even I can smell the hormones when you two are together.” She shakes her head. “Honestly, Stiles.”  
“Are you serious?” Stiles asks. “Why the hell hasn’t anyone told me this?”  
“We thought you knew!” She laughs. “It’s so obvious even Scott’s picked up on it, and he’s not usually the first one to take hints.”  
He’s torn between laughing and arguing with her in shock. Lydia reaches over and pats his shoulder.  
“Stiles, Derek definitely loves you. Now, can we stop worrying about it?”  
The word love stops any other thought in Stiles’ mind instantly. He wordlessly nods, and a look of amusement washes over Lydia’s face.  
“My God, I’ve rendered you speechless. Who would have thought it was possible?”  
*  
The first time Derek had kissed Stiles, something had settled in his chest, something strong and unmoving and big enough to completely fill him with a sensation that there was absolutely nothing in the world that he needed more than Derek.  
This feeling was still in his chest when they were undressing, and he was more than willing to let Derek drag him down onto his bed and climb on top of him.  
Stiles had never been interested in letting anyone take his virginity before. Well, he probably would have let Lydia, but that ship had sailed. Derek wasn’t anything like he’d thought he would be in bed; he took his time, almost like he was savoring Stiles, which wasn’t very understandable to him.  
Being with Derek like this makes Stiles more aware of everything. The fabric of his sheets are surrounding them, the feeling of Derek’s hands everywhere burned on his skin, and there was this heat between their bodies that made it utterly impossible for Stiles to think of anything else.  
He learns more things about Derek as they go on. For example, he learns that Derek really likes it when he moans, and that he’s really good at giving hickies. Stiles is fully aware that his neck is going to be all different shades of bruising tomorrow, but he could care less. He also figured out that Derek’s hands have a mysterious ability to be everywhere at once on Stiles’ body, but he loves it and it drives him wild so he definitely doesn’t mind.  
“Derek, I - oh God, Derek -” Stiles keeps saying his name, because it just sounds so perfect on his lips, like it was made for him to say. That sounds crazy, but with Derek stretching him out, teasing Stiles just gently enough to make his spine arch up, he starts to believe that yeah, maybe they really were made for each other because nothing he’s ever done ever felt this way.  
“I love you.” Through all the gasping and moaning and short breaths of ‘yes’ and ‘right there’ and ‘oh god,’ Stiles heard Derek murmur those three words against his neck and for a second, he can’t breathe.   
This is happening. He moans again, not being able to help himself, as Derek’s tongue finds a perfect spot on his neck. Stiles feels his heart doing that thing again, like a circuit that a spark just ran through, and he gasps.  
“I love y-you too.” He can barely get the words out, but when he does he can feel Derek groan against his skin and suddenly, Derek’s pushing into him and if he thought his thoughts were scrambled before, he had no idea.  
His moans get louder and Derek gets harder, and it’s not long before they’re both coming and Stiles knows there’s no way in hell or high water that this is just a one-time thing. With everything he’s feeling, it can’t be.  
Derek can feel how fast his heart is beating and whispers one last “I love you” before they fall into a silence somewhere between sleep and thought.  
*  
The nightmares don't come back. Stiles asks Derek why, and what they meant, because he figures there are other ways for his subconscious to tell him he has a mate other than making him watch Derek be killed by a faceless black figure. Derek tells him the monster could be a symbolism for the fear of not knowing, or maybe he should just stop watching horror movies at midnight and eating chocolate before bed.  
"That's probably not going to happen." He says, smiling.  
"I figured as much."  
That's one thing about Derek, that he accepts the clumsy, Mountain Dew - drinking and video game - playing teenager he is. And that's more than enough to ask for.  
The nightmares stopped because Stiles' subconscious has said what it needed to say. And they don't come back.


End file.
